Flames and Fires
by Cloakofinsanity
Summary: Alice Steiner: disowned daughter of the heads of an old branch of Scorpia, current MI6 agent (going on six years in) is being sent to Brecon Beacons to train. But she is only sixteen years old. How will K-Unit deal with both Alice Steiner and Alex Rider? Where does Sergeant Sanders fit in in all of this? I own nothing. This story does have plot, mind you. UNDER CONSTRUCTION
1. The Runner

AN: Hey everyone! This is my very first Alex Rider fic, so be nice-ish! I apologize for my Americanness, but I will make the new character American to ease your pain.

Note: Cub has been at Brecon Beacons for a few months, so he will be there and the units have already gotten over the shock. No secrets have gotten out though. And no, this is not a Fem!Alex

Another Note: This is in the new character's point of view. They have to write in a journal because they refuse to talk to a psychologist; the journal entry for the day is where this story starts.

Chapter 1

Dingy clouds stretched over the worn out sky, dimming the lights over the world. Time had finally dissolved in the runner's world, only to be told by the number of steps in the run. Step, step, step. Four thirteen. Four fourteen. Four sixteen. Four fifteen. Four fifteen. Four fifteen. You never ever forget four fifteen. Step, step, step. Five o'clock, five o' one, five o' two. Step, step. Five ten, five eleven. The runner normally stopped at six. In fact, on a normal day, the runner would be sprinting instead. But this wasn't a normal day. No. It never was when They called. Another mission. The runner had just gotten back from their last one. The runner never told anyone about the last one. The runner never did when they sent them to Anaconda. The old branch of Scorpia had finally risen to the top, so they sent the runner in to bring them back to the bottom. It had been easy to accomplish, but not easy for the runner's mental health. That can be expected though. Sending a fifteen year old on a mission to blow up their family's organization with their family inside wasn't suppose to be easy for mental health, no it was suppose to be easy for the runner to accomplish. Just like the others. At least Alan had the heart to apologize sincerely. At least Tulip had the heart to look ashamed. But they still needed the runner. Just like Chelsea needed the runner when Blunt was still a field agent. Things had been worse then. Chelsea never had the heart to say sorry to the little nine year old she was using. No. It had been the runner's choice. It was always the runner's choice. It was the runner's choice to steal away on that plane from America to Britain. It had been the runner's choice to go to the only place that the runner knew that could deal. It had not been Chelsea who brought the nine year old to the Royal and General Bank. No. It was never Chelsea's fault. Apparently it was the runner's. Because even as the runner ran, Death followed only a few steps away. Step. Step. Step... step... ste...

Journal Entry 1

Are you happy now, Mr. Psychiatrist?

The choppy script finally lulled to a stop as did the car engine. At least the driver believed in coincidences. Or was too scared to mention it. She had had some of those drivers. Always trying to sneak around her as they hustled about. Those ones were always the most irritating, and everyone wondered why Blunt kept sending them to her. After the had her, they always were then sent to deal with the sergeants in the military training facilities, or with Alex Rider.

"Miss? We are here." The driver said, turning about so his face was visible to her. She smiled sweetly and signed "thank you" to him. One of the sergeants in the facility she was going to visit was deaf, so she was going to make do. However, that didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy that confused look on the driver's face as he stared. The girl sighed inwardly and hopped out of the Rolls Royce. Honestly, these people were suppose to be spies. Couldn't they try to be conspicuous when they pick her up?

"Miss? Should I bring your bags?" The agent driver asked, in vain of course. She had made a cover, years of practice of making and keeping covers wouldn't let her give this one up. Her strong shoulders lifted slightly before dropping again, hopefully giving her time to put distance between her and her driver. Step, step, step, step. It was nine o'clock Alice time. Maybe four everyone else's time. Oh well. The run had been a nice distraction. She would probably need another one before the day was up. The last mission she had gone on had succeeded, but it had failed in the long run. Her parents had escaped the bomb she had planted in their facility. Alice sighed again. They would probably be found by tomorrow; no one ever said that they were good at hiding. No. They were good at making a scene and getting out before anyone knew. That last part always got them. Then MI6 would always send her in. Always. Without fail. The last four times had better results. Even she could admit that the last one was pretty awful compared to the ones before. Even though her last one was pretty awful, by her standards, she still walked into the bank just like she always did.

Shoving open the doors, her head automatically dropped a few inches, letting a water balloon fly over her. Icy blue eyes glared at the older spy lounged over an armchair, which was pulled over to stand beside the receptionist's desk. The man gave her a sheepish grin and a little wave when she stuck her hand out to retrieve the slingshot that was dangling over the edge of the arm. "I almost gotcha that time," Phillips exclaimed. Very loudly. I swear the man's a child. Andy, the receptionist, rolled her eyes at him. "You say that every time she walks through those doors. If you haven't gotten her yet, you won't for quite a long time." Alice shot the graying woman a grateful smile before yanking her immature partner off of the chair.

"Come on you moron. We've been rung for." Phillips groaned, throwing his head back, before bringing it back down into a pout that could rival a five year olds. "Oh come on Brit." She shouted over her shoulder once she was inside the elevator. Her partner growled something like "Those Americans can't teach their kids manners," but Andy just yelled for him to hurry up. Phillips slumped into the elevator, where he stood pouting until the doors closed. Immediately he straightened his ridiculous tie, it had puppies on it, and turned to her.

"What do you think is up?" He asked as soon as he was "Blunt Ready."

Alice shrugged helplessly, until he glared at her. "Fine. He is asking for both of us, so he might be giving us to another agency." At that he mood visibly brightened. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he started firing off random agencies that we might get sent to. "Maybe we'll be sent to SAS." His bouncing stalled for a moment as he turned to look over at her. She shrugged carelessly. "We haven't been there yet, so it's a possibility." This time Alice's partner shrugged, and continued to settle into, what Alice dubbed, Blunt Mode. The elevator doors opened with a ping, and both agents were out before the automated message went off. Ever since that got hacked, they never wanted to hear it ever again. Both of them strolled through the hallway on autopilot; they have been there at least twenty times in the last two months to discuss further training, but they had sent Alice on a mission before any conclusions could be made.

Moments later, two agents were sitting, very seriously no water balloons, in the two most uncomfortable armchairs in history, staring at Mr. Alan Blunt and Mrs. Tulip Jones. Folding her hands in front of her, Alice sunk into the chair, staring expectantly at her "bosses." Clearing his throat Blunt, almost nervously, started his spiel. "So, you both know of Alex Rider, yes?" Two nods. "Well we have put him into SAS for protection, and so far that idea has worked splendidly." Alice almost grinned. Last time she had been in this office, she had commented on Blunt's excessive use of the words "very well." "So we have decided that this system will work just as well for the two of you. We were discussing the future of both of your trainings, so we will be sending you to the same camp. I believe you know the sergeant, so this shouldn't be tortuous for either of you." Somehow the emotionless man had managed a reassuring smile,probably reassuring himself that they wouldn't manage to blow something up while we were there.

Both of the agents tilted their heads and glanced at Tulip simultaneously, as if they had practiced a million times. A shiver ran down the deputy's spine as she realized that they probably had. "Sanders," she said with an unnecessary nod. A scowl was carved into Agents John Phillips' face, while his partner's had a ridiculous grin on it. "So when do we leave?" Alice asked, though it seemed pure professionality, both Alan and Tulip could hear the underlining of excitement in her voice. Though both of them would deny it, the heads were mildly glad that they could hear the underline; before the younger agent had gotten over the guilt of leaving her family, she had been an absolute mess. However once she had gotten over the shock of The Accident five years ago, Alice had been right as rain.

"Six fifteen." Alice almost groaned. Six fifteen was always the departure time; in fact, Phillips had named it Spy Time. "Two hours? Can we at least go back to our houses and get our stuff?" Blunt shook his head. "No. You won't need to bring any clothes; they'll give you uniforms." A pair of pleading eyes were shot his way. "But... But... I have to deal with this numbskull for, what, two, three, four hours? My sanity will be gone." A dramatic throwing up of the hands and a sigh and their actress of an agent flopped back into her chair. Still Blunt sighed. "An hour. No longer." He warned stabbing his finger in her general direction. Phillips slumped down further in his chair, and Steiner grinned. Alice Steiner yanked her partner out of his chair and started to walk out without being dismissed. But not before shouting, "Thanks Bossman,*" over her shoulder.

*Yes, I got this from NCIS

So what did you think? I really wasn't sure whose point of view it was throughout the whole thing, so deal with it. Did you like it? Hate it? Are you going to review it? YES! (Please?)

Till Next Time,

Cloaky


	2. Welcome to Hell

AN: Hi! I've changed my idea for the direction of the fic, so I had to delete the chapters I had, except the first.

There is a portion of Cub's point of view, but it's pretty boring since it's just introductions.

Pretty anticlimactic, but I liked having Phillips and Alice interact.

P.S. Now, no one will be kidnapped in this story. Oops.

Chapter 2

"Welcome to Hell kiddos." A sigh echoed through my lips as the driver spoke the words. Alice muttered something from the backseat, probably something about her "not being a kid." Rolling my eyes at her, I hurriedly tripped out of the black Rolls Royce onto the mixture of gravel, dirt, and the tears of grown men. The driver muttered some quite undesirable words under his breath as Alice continued to toss crunched up balls of paper at the back of his head. As she had been doing for the past three hours.

They say that annoying is a skill.

My partner has obviously perfected that into an art.

Nimbly, my numbing fingers reached over the seat and snatched up the small bag that hung around the handle over the window. I yanked it off it's resting place to hold it just over my seat. "Throw another piece of paper, and I'll toss this in the lake." Threat accented with a glare.

Apparently that's all it takes to have a fifteen year old girl going from highly annoying to a freaking angel.

Her stubby fingers poked through the massive hole in the headrest in front of her, reaching out toward her bag. "Please Phillips?" That lesson in glaring with Weasel way back when was finally helping. Steiner's capri eyes widened as I shook the bag savagely. "Please? My school books are in there. You can't." A sigh almost burst out of me. Of course it had to be school books. Where else could she have gotten that much paper? A spark of pleading shimmered in her blue eyes. "Please. I'm so behind already. I can't graduate later if I don't keep up now. Isn't that what you always say?" Nothing. But damn her for using my words. Those are mine, not her's not Sergeant's, mine. A few moments later, she just slumped into the seat looking close to tears. Her eyes floated toward the floor mats before they slowly drifted nearer to my face. "Please." Tears clogged her throat as she talked and her eyes started to tear up. The sigh finally burst out as I tossed the school bag back to her.

A mischievous grin slapped itself firmly on her face as she wrapped a strap tightly around her hand. The tears of her facade dissipated and another chunk of paper landed in Mr. Johnson's fiery hair. I shut my eyes for a moment, hoping beyond all hope that my partner wasn't the biggest drama queen to ever exist, and quietly slipped into the Hell I will be living in. The expensive MI6 car door slams wickedly in the distance as Alice practically leaps out before Mr. Johnson can kill her. My instant aggravation at the place and my idiotic partner sends my pace speed through the roof as my feet quicken to the point that Alice has to almost jog to reach me. Since neither of us slow even slightly, we reached Sergeant's cabin in a matter of seconds.

The official building, full of sharp corners and crisp edges, loomed intimidatingly over us while I debated on whether or not I should go in with Steiner. After all, Sanders was part of her old training unit before he got promoted, and the stories she had written in her journal about them were downright vicious. For Pete's sake, they shoved her off of the assault course that hung a good ten feet off the ground. On the other hand, he is Sergeant Sanders now, not Coyote. He must have at least some tolerance for kids now, after all, he has Cub in a unit. Sighing once more, I perched myself on the side of the building, trying to give my eyes a rest for a minute.

Two and a half hours of going over people's files is usually not recommended. It might even be downright unhealthy.

Life kind of fades for a moment. The darkness under my closed eyelids flows into the exhaustion for a moment. And it feels good. Maybe it's the fact that we've either a) puzzled the soldiers enough to stay in their cabins or b) the soldiers are doing exercises and we won't have to see them yet. Perhaps it's just the knowing. Knowing that in the next few seconds, neither of us will be killed. Probably. There is always a chance. But it's still nice, being as close to worriless as a spy can get.

But then that moment's over, and Alice is shaking my shoulder again. My willpower fights against my eyelids as they resist the idea of lifting, but somehow I'm to walking from Sergeant's to a cabin. A puny hand is wrapped protectively around my elbow, dragging me closer to the flimsy looking cabin ahead of us. I jerked away in shock. A second ago, I had been leaning against a brick building struggling to not fall asleep, and now I'm being dragged toward a cabin that looks like it's about to fall over by someone. Someone... My hazel eyes trail down toward the person tugging me forward. Frazzled brown ponytail. Baggy gray sweatshirt that looked years older than it was. Graying blue jeans that had seen better days. Glaring blue eyes that had a faint glimmer of pain as the old wound in her shoulder twinged. Alice. A small breath escaped my lips, relief flooding through me in for the second. Then I realized. What the heck am I doing? I straightened abruptly, yanking my elbow out Steiner's firm grasp. She glanced up at me for a second before sighing.

We have been doing that a lot today.

"I talked to Sergeant," she muttered just loud enough that only I could hear her. I bite back the urge to reply back with a 'No sh*t Sherlock,' but just barely. It would have made her giggle, I'm sure. "I've been added onto K-Unit, and you're with those idiots at B-Unit." I could feel another groan coming on.

"Darn it! I was so close to being able to make A-Team jokes." The moan came out a little louder than I had hoped, but apparently I just woke up, so I get some leeway. The hand that had previously been attached to my elbow reached up and smacked me upon the head.

"Shut up Brit. That," her index finger shot out toward the flimsy building ahead of us,"is your life now. Have fun with that." My mouth opened half an inch before she started talking again. "I will not tell you where my cabin is because you will turn into a creepy stalker. Anyway, here's your stuff." My rucksack* was shoved into my hands and I continued on my way toward my new cabin. "Have fun on your first day," the squirt shouted back to me as she jogged off towards her cabin. Cheeky simpleton.

Whose point of view? (See AN)

"Eagle, would you please hand me the gosh darn book already," Snake shouted at his teammate as said person pranced around the room carrying one of Snake's medical books. For a moment the bumbling buffoon stopped to appear to think about the idea before shaking his head vigorously. A mischievous smile lit up his face as Snake's face darkened to a hard burgundy.

"I will not hesitate to use this Eagle," Wolf muttered, take for granted his speaking voice is a shout, pointing madly at the moron with the barrel of his gun. Eagle paled considerably, hurriedly tossing the book over Snake's shoulder and onto my bunk. The medic reached over hesitantly before swiping his book back while I buried myself into my Physics textbook. Physics, the bane of my existence. Eagle slumped down onto his bunk, muttering some gibberish about the unfairness. My eyes rolled automatically.

The drama king of the cabin rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into his flimsy pillow. Tufts of wheat colored hair poked out from the cover of the pillow, making him look even more like a child. Fake sobs echoed out of his mouth, barely being muffled by the pillow, which really wasn't surprising. Wolf scratched furiously at the inside of his gun barrel, flicking the barrel in Eagle's direction every now and then. The medic hung about on his bunk in the opposite corner, letting his foot tap furiously on the floorboards. Snake's long fingers twirled a pencil that he would throw in the air every few seconds. I have to assume that he was imagining hitting Eagle in the eye with it every other time. At the least.

I gave him five more minutes.

Surprisingly, he made it even less than that.

The man that really has too short of a temper to be allowed to tends wounds jumped from his bunk, his boots slamming viciously on the floorboards. Wolf's head jerked up in acknowledgment, but it looked like the enraged medic didn't even notice. The fair haired man swept over to Eagle, yanked on his collar until his head popped up, and proceeded to shout at him. For what seemed like ages. Ugh.

"You guys do realize that our new recruit is coming today, right?" Glares bore into my skin, but I barely glanced over the book.

Wolf rolled him eyes toward the ceiling. "No they're supposed to come tomorrow. Maybe if you actually payed attention when we visited Sergeant, you would know." My head bobbed up and down loosely as I tried to hang on the words of Issac Newton. A bang echoed through the cabin as Eagle fell off his bed in shock.

His eyes flew wide open, leaving his green eyes looking like little buttons. "We're getting a new recruit?" A gasp burst out of his mouth, and he collapsed onto the bed in a faked faint, forcing everyone to roll their eyes. Wolf opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by something curious. Two short knocks against the door. Two knocks. Eagle shot toward the door, launching himself horizontally nearer. He yanked the door open. Just to have his jaw hit the floor. His mouth opened and closed like a fish before he had recovered the mental capacity to saw something intelligible. "I'm sorry, are you lost?" He murmured in a sweet voice that seemed utterly terrifying.

"No. Unless this isn't Cabin C and you are not part of K-Unit." The disembodied voice shimmered through to Snake, Wolf, and I before disappearing again. Eagle cleared his tightening throat as quietly as possible and stepped out of the doorway, shuffling closer toward his bunk and further from Wolf. The sound of sneakers drifted through the cabin for a moment while the recruit walked in. Wolf opened his mouth, but resorted to opening and closing his mouth like an Eagle. Snake glanced up vaguely at the recruit and back down to the book he was devouring.

Silence.

A sigh burned through my lungs, forcing my head to drifted upward. Silence. It seemed that this silence was well deserved. When a 5' 3" young woman walks through your door and announces that she is now part of your unit, I'm pretty sure that you are allowed silence.

But this was getting awkward.

Apparently Wolf was feeling it as well, since he was the first I saw to open his mouth. As soon as words could come out of that man's mouth, I popped up out of my bunk and strode over to the girl. Her blue eyes scattered across the cabin, staring anxiously at something if it moved too slowly. Once they settled on my, her miniscule hand shot out in front of her. "Hello. I'm Pip. Nice to meet you..." her soft voice trailed off uselessly. I shook her hand slightly, muttering Cub somewhere in there. I hardly see how it matters. It's not she will be here awhile. The other three stared at us like we had seven heads that blew smoke at them, so I placed my hand on top of the girl's head. Goodness she's short.

"Pip." My ghostly strides brought me to Snake in seconds. Doing the same, I shoved my hand onto his blonde hair. "Snake." The same happened with Eagle but I just kind of gestured to Wolf. Pip nodded thankfully at me before slapping her stuff onto the top bunk in the corner, the only empty. She yanked herself on top of the bunk, and I'm pretty sure she just kind of drifted awkwardly into sleep. Must have been one heck of car ride. Soon following her lead, the other four of us floated in that area between consciousness and subconsciousness before sleep overtook us.

AN: Sorry about the ending. I know it sucked. Oops.


End file.
